An Observation on Single Parenting

I've done a lot of "real" single parenting in my time, as well as "parenting-while-the-husband-is-gone" parenting. There is a difference, because when you are a true single parent, you have no one to lean on for emotional support in raising your children. When you are a geographically single parent, you can at least call your spouse and lay guilt trips on him when you need to vent.

Here's my observation on kids who come from a house without a dad around:

Generally speaking, they are a total pain in the ass.

I get it. We're all adjusting, coping, managing, doing the best we can with our situation. But these little demons are so stinking relentless! I consider myself a pretty resilient parent. I am diligent in applying my Love and Logic skills, and usually find fair amounts of success in meeting my goals.

But when the male presence is gone from the house? We all fall to pieces. I am impatient, intolerant, and irritable as a parent. They, in turn, are disobedient, lazy, and seriously annoying. Sure we have our good moments. I'd dare say we actually do a fairly decent job most of the time. But every couple of weeks or so, it's like we hit a snag. And the hits just keep on coming.

Photographic metaphors may help:

I lead my children. I like them to walk beside me, smiling, as I tell them all the important things they need to know. They should be generally willing to do this. Did I mention the smiling? There is an overall harmonious tandem. This is what I seek after.

Instead, it sometimes feels like this:

Observe my son, under a pile of human determination. I kinda feel like this... my kids are very determined to keep their rooms messy, avoid doing their homework, slack on their chores, and wear dirty clothes as often as possible. I am at the bottom of the determined heap, knowing I should cast off a few bodies, but lacking the wiggle room to do so.

Then I get these bursts of motivation and positivity. My son made a fabulous tackle here, and stopped a touchdown. I look at my kids as being the opposing team. I have to stop them from scoring. Bad approach to parenting? Perhaps. But it's every man for himself right now.

And here's my other son, blocking a guy much larger and slightly stronger than he is. I'm outnumbered by these kids. It's 3 to 1. The odds are not in my favor. But if you know how to execute the moves properly, size need not prevent you from winning. I have not quite figured out how to do this, other than grabbing on for dear life and pushing back. This usually comes in the form of irritated yelling.

So there you have it. I have tumbled from my parenting pedestal. I used to be good. Now, I'm only good when things go my way. When the kids try to take advantage of me being by myself, they kinda win. I mean, I win in the end because I scream til they obey, or I hide their things to make them feel remorseful. But it's a cheap victory.